Unrivaled Dragon King: God of War’s Revenge

The Sleepless City

"Trash! Useless trash!"

CRASH!

A monitor, which was sixty inches, burst into sparks and glass.

A man in black robe stood shaking with anger in a dimly-lit room somewhere underneath the sewer system of the city. A mist of dark energy was swirling over his features, concealing his real features.

This was the Master. The Dark Soul Sect Cultivator.

The puppet Don Viper, which he had just seen on a live video feed have his throat crushed like a soda can, was his most profitable puppet. However, it was not about losing money or a subordinate that made him angry.

It was the gold light that he had noticed in the eyes of Alex.

"Dragon Qi," the Master hissed. The shadows circling around him had the shape of snakes that were alive, they were responding to the intent of killing. A Dragon Cultivator in this town? Impossible. A hundred years ago the Ancient Temples were burnt! How can a survivor exist?"

He paced around the room. Scorched black marks of his feet imprinted the concrete floor.

He will spoil the Grand Ritual were he to discover me. One needs three days to perfect the soul of the girl. There is no way I can allow him to break the process.

He stopped pacing. He gazed at the deepest part of the room, of which the light did not come.

"Shadows."

SWISH.

Three forms were fused out of darkness. They had no armor, no clothes, but black bandages that enclosed their rotting bodies. They carried jagged daggers which flashed with a ghastly green glow.

These were not humans. They were Shadow Assassins--corpses whose bodies were brought to life by the black magic. They felt no pain. They had no fear. They only knew how to kill.

Go, the Master said, his voice dripping with vile. "Find the man named Alex. It will be better to peel off his skin when he is alive. Bring me his head."

His three shadows hissed together. They then disappeared behind the walls.

Meanwhile, at the White Villa.

The city outside was in chaos. Tears flowed like weeping banshees wailed by police sirens. Helicopters flew round the Grand Emperor Hotel and their searchlights braved the night. The massacre of the century was screaming in the news channels.

Alex did not mind about all of it.

He was sitting by the bedside in the master bedroom holding the cold hand of Sarah.

The finest doctors in the world were present in the room. They had been flown in by Alex ten minutes ago out of the medical department of the Dragon Temple. They were sweating like mad, and inspecting the machines, talking madly to themselves.

"Report," Alex said. His voice was low, and it startled the doctors.

A man, who had served as a doctor to presidents and kings, stepped forward and was the Chief Doctor. He was trembling.

"My Lord... it's bad."

Alex looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed. "How bad?"

The life support is being rejected by her physical body... it is... it is... I mean, sweating, sweating, sweating... The Soul Extraction performed on her was excessive. It cut off her mind and her heart. She is having one of her organs closing down at a time.

He hichhiked, even more frightened than he was before to utter the next sentence. "She has three days. Maybe less. Unless we stabilize her root of spirit in 72 hours, her body will be ashes. And even should you recover her soul after that... she will have no ship to go back to.

CRACK.

The armrest of the chair Alex is sitting on was made of solid oak, which softened in his hands to a fine powder.

Three days.

He had conquered the world. He had cash that could purchase nations. He possessed such an army that could mound continents. But he couldn't buy time.

"Is there a cure?" Alex asked.

There is one thing, said the doctor, feeling the anger in the room. Ancient books tell of a herb known as the Seven-Leaf Spirit Grass. It thrives in locations where there is a spiritual charge. It may provoke the body to stay in a stasis position of one year. It would get us time to seek her soul.

"Where is it?" Alex stood up.

It is indeed very rare, My Lord. But, my informants tell me there was one discovered in an ancient tomb last month. It is being sold tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes. Celestial Auction House. It is the largest underground auction in the country. Invitations are made to only top ten families. It begins at five hundred million in bidding.

Five hundred million?

Alex almost laughed. To him, money was just paper.

"Talon!" Alex barked.

General Talon was at the doorway at once, with his weapon in hand. "Lord!"

"Prepare the car. We will be going to Celestial Auction House.

"Yes, Lord! And shall I arm the armored division? And shall we surround the building?

No, said Alex as he put his old, grey coat on top of his tactical shirt. He took one more glance at the pale face of Sarah, and vowed silently. I do not require soldiers to purchase a plant. I just need a checkbook."

Thirty Minutes Later The Celestial Auction House.

This was even more exclusive than the Grand Emperor Hotel. It was a citadel of marble and gold, and was kept by mercenaries, of their private, who were like chewers of glass at breakfast time.

The car park was a Bugatti showroom, an ad hoc Rolls Royce and a Ferrari collector car park. Those walking in were the real masters of the state, politicians, warlords, and secret billionaire families, who made the strings of the economy pull.

Alex stepped out of his taxi.

The wind blew his dusty coat. He had not dressed up ever since the massacre at the hotel. He still had a trace of blood and smoke.

He turned towards the golden doors.

"Ticket," the doorman said. He didn't even look at Alex. He was scanning the invitation of a gorgeous woman in a red dress revealing much.

Alex stopped. "I don't have a ticket."

The doorman looked up. He made a scowl and examined the inexpensive garments of Alex. "No ticket? Then get lost. The soup kitchen is situated three blocks away. This isn't a place for beggars."

The red-dressed woman giggled. She looked pitifully and disgustedly at Alex. "Oh dear, lost your way? This isn't a shelter, sweetie. This is where big boys play."

She opened her purse, and took out a hundred-dollar bill and threw it to Alex. It fell on the ground at his dusty shoes.

"Here," she sneered. Get out and buy a burger and get out of the doorway. You're ruining the view."

Alex dropped the bill to the floor. He didn't even blink.

Alex explained his reason here in a calm way: I want to make a purchase.

"You?" The doorman laughed loudly. He gave signals to the security guards. "Look at this clown! He tells him that he would like to purchase something! What are you going to buy? The doormat?"

Three huge guards came out, bending the knuckles. Go before we toss you in the street, and break a few of your ribs, Buddy.

Alex sighed. Why should everybody in this city judge a book by its cover?

He reached into his pocket. He didn't pull out a weapon.

He pulled out a card.

It wasn't a credit card. It was a black card, of unknown metal, and bore only one golden dragon embossed on it.

The "Supreme Dragon Card."

The world had only three of these. The World Bank made its issuance directly to the commanders of the three super powers. It had no limit. It would purchase the whole auction house a hundred times.

Alex held it up.

"Scan it," Alex said.

The doorman sneered. "What is this toy? A library card?"

He grabbed it out of the hand of Alex and swiped through the scanner rolling his eyes. "Declined. I bet it's dec--"

BEEP!

The scanner did not just beep. It screamed.

A red light flashed. Then green. Then gold.

The machine started shaking. The number shown on the screen was too long that it dropped off the LCD screen.

BALANCE: UNLIMITED.

ACCESS LEVEL: GOD CLASS.

The eyes of the doorman protruded over his head. He dropped the scanner. In another moment his face changed to arrogant to terrified.

"G-G-God Class?" he stuttered. He examined the machine, and then looked at Alex.

The lady in red dress ceased to laugh. Her jaws were parted apart as she gazed at the screen. Her costly bag dropped out of her hands.

"Impossible..." she whispered. "That card... that's a legend! That is only possessed by the Kings of the World!

Alex grabbed the doorman by the card as it was trembling in his hand.

"Can I go in now?" Alex asked.

"Y-Yes! Yes, sir! Please! Right this way!" The doorman got down on his knees nearly touching the floor. He was sweating bullets. "I'm sorry! I have eyes and I could not see Mt. Tai! Please forgive me!"

Alex walked past him. He had jumped on the hundred-dollar bill, tossed to him by the woman, and created a dusty imprint on the countenance of the president.

He threw the golden doors open.

There were hundreds of wealthiest individuals in the country sitting on velvet chairs inside. They were in auction of diamonds, old swords and personal islands.

Alex went out to the very front row. There was sitting a fat tycoon, chewing a cigar.

"Move," Alex said.

The tycoon looked up, annoyed. "Who the hell are--"

Alex looked at him.

The tycoon froze. He was aware of the darkness in the eyes of Alex. He saw the death he carried. It was the eyes of a hunter at his prey. He choked off his words and rose and ran to the back row without uttering a word.

Alex sat down. His legs were crossed and he waited.

Ten minutes on, the auctioneer on the stage banged his gavel.

"Next item! The mythic Seven-Leaf Spirit Grass! It is a miracle drug that is claimed to revive the dead! Bids open at five hundred million!

"Six hundred!" a voice shouted from the back.

"Seven hundred!" another yelled.

Alex didn't shout. He simply raised his hand.

"Ten billion," Alex said.

The room went dead silent.

Every head turned. Every jaw dropped. The auctioneer was almost falling off the stage. A small fleet of war-vessels could be purchased with ten billion.

The shocked auctioneer looked at Alex who leaned back in his chair.

What are you up to, not to play games? I asked, and my voice rattled the silent hall. I have come to purchase the entire list.